Chapter 9: A Pain and a Guilty Pleasure


Before all of this my list of wants was simple.

1. I want to be mentally healthy, without being reliant on medication.
2. I want to be able to make my own choices, without incessant criticism from my parents.
3. I want to find a place where I belonged, without having to pretend to be someone I'm wasn't.

See? I'm not greedy. I don't feel the need for superfluous shit. I don't want fame, or wealth, or anything too special. I've always just wanted to be happy.

But, what was it that the Stones said? You can't always get what you want.


I had been in Winterfell for over a month when I got my first severe headache. It was the morning of the King's arrival. Sansa, Arya, Rickon, and I were together in my room preparing for the day ahead. Sansa had asked to braid my hair, and I in turn was braiding Arya's, who was attempting to braid Rickon's. It came on quickly, with a wince. I closed my eyes tight, and held the sides of my head.

I saw bark flying off a tree. I saw it happen again, only this time lower on the trunk, and wet with red.

"Dahlia, you're bleeding!"

I opened my eyes to see dots of blood falling from my nose.

"Your eyes." Arya's expression was enough to freak me out.

I turned to grab Sansa's looking glass. My eyes were bloodshot, to the extreme. It looked like I had spent the last year partying hard without a wink of sleep.

"What's happened?" Sansa covered her mouth in shock.

"I don't - I don't -" I pinched my nose with one hand and held my head with the other. I had never had a headache like this before. It felt like a marching band was trying to bust out of every part of my skull.

It had been days since I thought about my old life. Everything here moved so quickly, and I was always so busy with Rickon. I didn't have the energy to dream, let alone think about what exactly happened in that Washington forest.

The pain spiked again, my eyes shut in reflex as I sucked in air through my mouth. Again, I saw the two tree trunks. This time there was another image. My leg. At least I think it was my leg. It looked more like something out of a gory horror film. It resembled a slab of bloody hamburger meat.

I heard Arya speak, "Sansa, go get the Maester!"

I heard running footsteps and the creak of the door. "Really, I'll be fine. It's just a headache" I forced my eyes open. Both Rickon and Arya looked scared. I couldn't figure out why. They didn't see the Washington forest. For all they knew this was just a headache.

The Washington forest. The forest where I - I died? The forest where my best friend helped kill me? Did that really happen?

I pushed the thought away and Rickon handed me a handkerchief. "Thank you."

"You promise you're okay?"

I felt the pain subside a bit at the kindness in his little voice. "Of course. It just caught me off guard is all."

It wasn't long before the Maester showed up, and shooed my two favorite Stark children out of my room. I tried to explain to him that it would be okay, that I was already feeling much better. I showed him how my nosebleed had stopped, but he wouldn't have any of it. Alternatively, he said that there wasn't much that he could really do except offer me a small glass of wine to calm me down. With the day I knew I had ahead of me, I gladly accepted.


I had cleaned myself up just in time for the King's procession, where I lined up behind Rickon and next to Jon Snow. The glass of wine Maester Luwin gave me was in full effect. I had only had wine a few times in my life, and I have to admit I really enjoyed the feeling. My mouth felt tingly as everything set in. I watched the array of colorful banners, the flocks of people in rich clothing. I watched it all with a whisper running through my head. I'm dead. It was drowned out, for the most part, by loud footfalls, hushed conversations, and the sound of hooves on the Winterfell ground. I had read this scene so many times, but this was different. I was here. It was all so real. I'm dead.

I tried not to let my imminent unraveling distract me from seeing all of the people I had read so much about. It was interesting watching Jon Snow as he saw the various people: King Robert, Cersei, the Kingslayer. It all felt surreal, practically knowing what he was thinking. I tensed when Joffrey came into view.

If I got to do one thing while I'm here, I wanted it to be ending Joffrey "Baratheon."

I tensed again when the King came to survey the Stark children, worried what he might do when he saw me. I don't think I exhaled for an entire minute. It might have been that my hair was braided up around my head, or that my eyes were still red, or any number of things, but he passed by me without a second glance.

We were dismissed when Robert and Ned went down into the catacombs. I quickly took Rickon's hand and we went off to the Godswood before anyone could ask anything of either of us.

"Mind if I join you?"

I felt a prick of annoyance on the back of my neck before I turned to see who it was. Jon Snow. We hadn't talked since I told him who I thought his parents were, and that was days ago. I wanted to say "no." I wanted to tell him to go be angsty somewhere else, but I couldn't. I was a guest in this house. "Of course."

Maybe another day I would have been fine with it, but today I didn't want to think about Jon Snow's problems. I didn't want to think about the Stark's problems. I didn't want to have to worry about these people, not today.

I just wanted to play tag with Rickon. I just wanted to feel the cold air on my skin. I just wanted to be alive for a bit. I dodged Rickon's hand a few times before he caught me, then started my slow chase.

"I wanted to talk to you about my parents."

"We're busy playing tag." My words came out a little ruder than they had been for the last month. I wasn't sure if it was the glass of wine, or the events of the morning, or maybe it was the fact that for some reason I didn't feel like I had to walk on eggshells with Jon.

Jon Snow's voice got a bit sterner. "It's important."

I stopped running seconds before I caught up to Rickon, and he ran and hid behind the weirwood. I just couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't hold the strings together anymore. Not now, when I just wanted an hour or two to forget it all. I snapped. "No. It's not important. You have lived this whole time without talking about it, and you're totally fine, so stop fussing. You're alive. You have Lord Stark, and you have Rickon, and everyone. It doesn't matter who gave birth to you, it matters who raises you, and you're smart enough to know that, so just stop."

He seemed to shrink at my outburst. "It's just - They say you look like her, and I just thought-."

"Do I?" I rolled my eyes at hearing this for the hundredth time in a month. "The King looked right at me, and nothing! All of that stress for nothing. You'd think that if I really looked like her something would have happened, right? I mean, he started a war for her, surely he knows what she looks like. But it didn't, and I'm tired of hearing it. I'm tired of it. I'm just so tired, so just let us play. Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to be a dead girl?" I didn't realize that I had been yelling until I stopped and the words 'dead girl' just hung there, like so many leaves. Rickon had stopped running.

Something fell off my face. Tears? Was I crying? There were a lot. I could feel it now, behind my eyes, bursting out. For a month I held it together for the most part, while holding the puzzle pieces apart. I must have known I was just buying time before it hit me, but I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want to be dead. I didn't want my life to have ended in those woods, especially since I had been too much of a coward to really live it. Not yet.

After I failed at killing myself, I rethought it all. I had things I had wanted to do. I wanted to be my own person. I wanted to stand on my own, but no. I was too scared to start, and now look at me. I'm a dead girl.

I let out a sob, but stifled it quickly. Wiping my eyes with my sleeve. This wasn't allowed. Crying wasn't allowed. Crying showed weakness. Crying was for babies. Good girls don't cry, and if they do then Mom and Dad can't take them on any more of their vacations. "I'm sorry. I just, I just -"

"Stop, Jon. She doesn't feel well." Rickon had come to my side. I felt uncomfortable. He was only three, and sure, we had gotten somewhat close since I started being his nurse, but it was just because I let him get away with more than the old nurses. Was he defending me? Were we that close? "Maester Luwin had to check on her this morning."

"I didn't know."

"I'm fine, really." I patted Rickon's head, but he didn't look convinced. I felt the air come through the trees, and heard the leaves click softly together. I felt my heart pumping, still quickened by my outburst, and tasted the salt on my lips. I felt alive, so doesn't it follow that I am alive? Whatever happened in Washington, whatever happened to me there somehow brought me here. And here I am alive. As much as I wanted more answers, as much as I wanted to know why all of this happened, for now that was all I had. And I guess I also had a true friend in Rickon. He may have been 16 years younger than me, but it was something. I patted Rickon's head again, ruffling his hair a bit. "You're it."

I didn't hold back on my running this time when I took off. I darted from tree to tree in the forest as Rickon chased after me. After a few minutes of standing there, processing what had just happened, Jon joined us and caught on quickly, allowing Rickon to catch him. My mind was completely blank while we played. For a couple of hours there was just the chase and the escape and the laughter of new friends.


"I'm glad your eyes are back to normal. They scared me a little," Rickon said as I cut his meat into more manageable pieces for him.

"Cut mine too," Prince Tommen, who was sitting next to us, requested.

It seemed a strange request, since Tommen was a great deal older than Rickon, but he was a prince, and I had done enough lashing out for one day. "Of course, Prince Tommen."

It was only after they were settled that I turned to my own meal, first taking a large gulp from my wine. A few hours passed like that, at least I think it must have been that long. The servant that was tending to our table refilled my cup once more before it was time for me to put Rickon to sleep.

As I tucked him in I debated going to sleep myself, and forgo the rest of the feast. I even went into my room and sat on my bed for a while, undoing the braids that Sansa had given me in the morning. It felt nice, like the vice grip around my head had slacked. I wanted to lay down. The day had been so long, and I was so tired. I had gotten a couple of days off this kind of fatigue, which was the norm when I was just a Winterfell servant. At least tonight I would have a comfortable bed.

I couldn't bring myself to go to sleep, though. A part of me needed to be there, and see all of the people in the hall, happy and celebrating. I wanted to see it. I wanted to experience it first-hand, not through the pages of a book.

I picked myself up from my bed and returned to the hall, where I sat and sipped my wine again. Prince Tommen was no longer at our table. He must have been tired, too. All of the younger children had left, and the overall mood of the hall had changed. The guests were rowdy now. It made me feel strange, sitting at the table alone. This is how I felt when Sophie dragged me to those parties. Just me, alone, hanging out in the corner, trying to go unnoticed while everyone else cut loose. My thoughts drifted to Sophie. We had been so close. She was my only friend, and, even though she totally betrayed me, I couldn't help but remember different times.

I was fine for a while, watching everyone, listening to the twang of the lute and the dull roar of the voices. With all of these people so close to each other, Winterfell felt warm. I sipped from my cup a little more frequently now that I didn't have to watch over Rickon. The wine warmed my face. I could feel it in my cheeks, that tingle from earlier. Everything had a sort of glaze over it, like a donut. I missed donuts. They were my favorite sometimes treat. I wonder if Sophie still ate donuts. She knew I liked donuts. I wonder if she would think of me when she ate her donuts.

Finally, I broke from my trance. Getting up, I looked for a new place to sit, again debating going to sleep. Theon hadn't gone to sleep yet. Robb hadn't gone to sleep yet. I would wait at least until they did.

"Dahlia," I heard Catelyn speak, a little louder than her voice normally dared to go, "The Queen wishes to speak to you."

I heard a honeyed voice next, "Come here, I want to meet you."

I quickly combed my hair with my fingers, and tried to straighten out my clothes. As I approached her table, I looked to Catelyn first, hoping for some sort of support, but there was none. I didn't take it personally. Cat must've been exhausted by now, with all of these guests in her home. I sent a smile her way, hoping she understood.

The Queen was more intimidating than I ever could have imagined. Her description in the books had hardly done her justice at all. She had this aura that permeated the air around her. She was powerful, and beautiful, and honestly, even with everything I knew about this world, she scared me. It felt like when I used to see police officers back home. I didn't have to be doing anything wrong, but somehow, just their mere presence made me feel like a criminal.

It took me a few beats before I remembered everything I knew about Cersei Lannister. I had thought about us meeting a couple times, concocted strategies, went over potential conversation points in my head, but right now there was only one move for me to make. "It is a true pleasure to meet you, your Grace." I curtsied as naturally as possible, but my body was awkward.

"I am told that you are a foreigner. Where are you from, sweet thing?"

"Very far, your Grace." My brain quick-fired, and it finally occurred to me where I could say I was from. "Beyond Essos and Sothoryos," I paused, hesitating for a second, "I come from Ulthos."

I noticed the look of subtle surprise on Lady Catelyn's face, and forced an even wider smile over my lips. If she said something now it would blow everything. I had to make a good first impression with Cersei. if I could just get her to almost like me, if I could just get her to not outwardly hate me, it would help me protect the people I cared about in this world. She could help me save Westeros.

"I don't believe I've ever met anyone from Ulthos." She looked me over as I stood in front of her. It was like a lioness assessing a gazelle, wondering if it was worth it to pounce. "You'll have to tell us all about it while we're here in Winterfell."

"Of course, your Grace."

Her eyes darted behind me, as if she was focused on someone else for a second. She didn't look back to me until she was well into her next sentence. "I'm told you bear some resemblance to a girl King Robert was first betrothed to, Eddard Stark's sister."

"I don't know about any of that, your Grace."

"Regardless, you are quite beautiful. You've certainly captured the King's attention."

No. Had things changed? This morning it was as though the King hadn't even seen me. Why would she say this? Luckily, this was something I had prepared for while I was trying to sleep last night. I lowered my head, a near bow, as I spoke, "I beg your forgiveness, your Grace, but you're the sun." It hadn't sounded so clumsy in my head.

She sighed, taking a sip from her goblet before she responded. "Our trip has me tired; I don't understand your meaning."

I cleared my throat, taking a breath in while I straightened out my thoughts. "I mean that any man, king or beggar, would be a fool to look at anyone other than you, your Grace. Even where I am from we've heard about your beauty, and now I know those rumors do not compare to seeing you now. You are the sun, and all others are only candles."

A faint smile curved its way across the Queen's lips. "I like her." She took another long sip. "Keep talking like that, sweet thing, and I might have to take you with us back to King's Landing."

I couldn't control the relieved expression that flooded my face. She liked me, or at least she said she did. A friendship with her would go a long way in protecting the Starks, not to mention how it could prevent all-out war.

Maybe I could actually make a difference. Maybe this wasn't impossible.

"Lady Emerson." A voice came from behind me, and I jumped a little, only to see that it was the harmless Robb Stark. "Excuse me, your Grace, I wanted to see if I could trouble Lady Emerson for a dance."

I looked to the Queen. "Go." She waved us away. "It is a celebration after all. The King shouldn't be the only one of us having fun."

Robb led me away to where other people were dancing. I was never one for dance, except for the ballet classes I took when I was little, and even then I was never very talented. Robb took the lead, as men normally do, or so I'm told, and I tried my best to follow what he was doing. "What was the Queen talking to you about?"

"Nothing really. Just introductions, that sort of thing."

"The King's been looking at you," he said with a sprinkle of anger in his tone, "Ever since you put your hair down."

Was he mad at me? Was he really mad at me for taking my hair out of those god-awful braids? I snapped back at him jokingly, "You try wearing yours like that. It's hardly comfortable." That seemed to quiet his complaints, because we spent the rest of the song quietly dancing. It was nice being in someone's arms. I'd never really experienced it before, at least not like this. His hand was warm in mine, and the way his other gripped my waist sent a queasiness to my stomach. He was only 15. What would he be in a conventional school back home? A Freshman? Maybe a Sophomore in high school? Does this mean I'm a creep? No, we're only dancing. I can be attracted to him, just as long as I don't act on it. Was I attracted to Robb? I had never really been attracted to anyone tangible really. I've had crushes on movie stars and classmates I never spoke to, but never anyone that I knew. I never felt this primal gut feeling before. I shook the thought from my mind and focused on our steps instead, unable to look at him in the face for more than a second at a time. I wasn't good at this kind of dancing. I wasn't good at any kind of dancing. We were well into another song when I finally fessed up to the young wolf. "Sorry. I don't really dance."

His smile grew even more charming. "Neither do I, but I think we've got everyone fooled."

It wasn't right to like him. I knew that. I needed to deflect. I needed to do something to fix this feeling. "How do you like the Princess?" I blurted out.

"She's quite nice."

I blurted more words, "You two should get married, not Sansa and Joffrey."

"Sansa's marrying Joffrey?"

Was that not common knowledge yet? I guess not, it was only the King's first day in Winterfell. "That's the rumor I've heard."

We danced for a minute more in silence, me trying not to step on his feet, before Robb spoke again. "She's much too young."

"What?"

"Myrcella is 7 years younger than me." I glanced at his face again. He seemed to be being sincere. He really was handsome. And taller than me. He didn't have that early pubescent look 15-year-olds normally had. He looked like he could grow a beard if he felt like it. He could pass for 19, easy. Maybe time was different here. Maybe years were longer. Maybe here I'm 15 too. Stop it Dahlia, you're being creepy. He's a kid still. "She's just a child, it would be wrong."

I let out a sigh. "I know the feeling." I let go of his hand as soon as I spoke. "I think I'm going to sit for a while."

"I'll join you."

I didn't want him to join me. The more I looked at him, the more I felt creepy for the thoughts that flickered in my head.


Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Please review so I know how you are reacting to the story. I'd love to hear all of your thoughts. And really, thank you for reading. I know it's a silly little story, but I hope you are having as much fun reading it as I am having conjuring it into existence.